


Snow Angels

by sabershadowkat



Series: Holidays [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 09:12:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4429661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabershadowkat/pseuds/sabershadowkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pure Christmas Smut with a little plot thrown in for seasoning.<br/>Post Lover's Walk</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Angels

Part One

 

Buffy walked through the cemetery, as usual, trying to stay enthusiastic about patrol. She huddled in her own leather jacket, not the one Angel had given her long ago, and shivered. 

"Stupid Hellmouth," Buffy swore. "This is California. It’s not suppose to snow." 

Clomping through two foot drifts, Buffy surveyed the empty cemetery. Headstones rose eerily from the blanket of white. She shivered again. "I swear, I’m the only one dumb enough to be out here." 

Extending her senses, the Slayer tried to ascertain if any vampires, or anyone else for that matter, was around. Silence. 

Then swearing. 

Puzzled, Buffy followed the voice as silently as she could, given the state of the ground. Finally, she saw someone in a relatively desolate section of the cemetery. 

Stopping far enough away as not to be noticed, Buffy watched as the darkly clad figure pushed a ball of snow. The nearly full moon chose that moment to peek out from behind dark clouds. 

*Spike!* 

Buffy would recognize that shock of peroxide blond anywhere. She was about to call out to the vampire, furious that he’d returned to Sunnydale, again, but something made her stop. 

Instead, the Slayer stood in the shadows, leaning casually against a tree, and watched her mortal enemy. She had to cover her mouth so as not to laugh out loud as Spike went into a litany of curses. 

"Oh, come on, you pillock. Move," Spike said, pushing the heavy mound of snow onto another one. Grunting in accomplishment, he bent again to create the final portion. 

Buffy giggled silently as Spike stood back and admired his work. She saw him dip into the pockets of his long, leather duster and pull out a few objects. As soon as they were added to the creation, Buffy made her presence known. 

"Hey there, Spike," she said, sauntering towards the vampire. 

Spike’s eyes widened comically and he swore again. 

With another giggle, the Slayer walked to him and looked at the finished product. "Nice snowman…er, snowvamp, that is," she said, noticing the pair of black, plastic fangs. 

Spike just stared at her, mortified. 

"So, this is what vampires do in their spare time," Buffy said, gesturing to the snowman. "Play in the snow." 

"Oh, piss off," Spike said, shoving his hands forcefully into his pockets and stomping away. 

Buffy could have sworn his face was red. 

Catching up to the vamp, she paced herself with his long strides. "Why are you back? Again?" Spike ignored her as they left the cemetery. "And where’s your skanky ho?" Buffy asked looking around for the female vampire. "Still shaggin’ the chaos demon?" 

Spike whirled and shot his hand out, grabbing the Slayer by the throat. "Shut. Up." 

Dropping his hand, he ran it though his short hair, then pulled out a cigarette. "Sorry," Spike apologized. He lit up. 

Buffy rubbed her sore neck and wondered where her next sentence came from. "Are you ok?" 

Spike exhaled the smoke, staring up at the dark clouds. "I will be," he answered truthfully. 

"Do you want to tell me what happened?’ she asked. Buffy couldn’t believe she was trying to have a civilized conversation with the guy who’d tried to kill her and her friends time and time again. *It’s the snow,* she told herself. 

Spike looked at her sharply, his blue eyes piercing hers. "Pretend I care," Buffy told him. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Spike answered. "She was no longer mine." He shrugged and puffed on the cigarette. "So I left." 

"That must have been harsh," Buffy said softly, understanding. "So, why did you come all the way back up here?’ 

"Familiarity," Spike said simply. "Except for when that bloody sod was running around, I liked it here. Always a challenge." He inhaled on the cigarette again. "Speaking of the wanker, where is your lap dog?" 

Buffy winced. "He’s, uh…well, gone." Spike arched a curious eyebrow at her. "He moved to LA to get away from…his memories." 

"Including you," Spike stated. 

Buffy looked crestfallen. "Yeah. Including me." 

"I always knew he was a stupid prick." 

She couldn’t believe what Spike just said. "Wh-what?" 

"Only an insensitive pillock would voluntarily give up his claim to you," Spike said with a furious tone in his voice. 

"Did…did you just compliment me?" Buffy asked incredulously. 

Spike looked her over, from her red nose to snow-covered boots, then shrugged. "You’re everything a man could want in a mate," he told her. "You’re beautiful, smart, quick-witted, a great fighter and I’d wager you’re a very passionate lover." 

Buffy blushed, her face matching the color of her nose. She tried to think of a comeback, but could only stand there gaping at him. 

Spike shot her a wry grin, then offered his arm. "Walk you home?" 

Still dumbfounded, the Slayer accepted his arm. They began a leisurely stroll down the streets of Sunnydale. Arriving at the Summers’ residence, Spike stopped them at the end of the driveway. "Here we are." 

"Um…thanks, I guess," Buffy said. She dropped his arm and started towards the door. She only made it a few feet when she turned back to him. "I, uh, guess I’ll be seeing you around." 

"Count on it, " Spike said, giving her a wicked smile. 

Buffy smiled uncertainly, not sure as to how to take his remark. She turned once again and trudged to the house. When she neared the front door, she looked back at Spike. He was still standing at the end of the driveway, but he was searching the sky as if it held the answers to the universe. Buffy realized she didn’t want him to go. 

She was about to invite him in when her eyes caught the fallen snow. With an evil grin, Buffy scooped some up and compacted it between her gloved fingers. "Hey, Spike!" 

Spike brought his head down and looked at her. "Yes, pet?" 

"Catch!" Buffy yelled. She lobbed the snowball at him, hitting the vampire with a thunk. 

Spike looked down at his snowy shirt, then back at the Slayer in time to get hit with another snowball. "I don’t think so, luv," he said, grabbing a handful of snow and retaliating. 

Exhilarated, Buffy launched herself into the fight. Running around her front yard, the two mortal enemies were embroiled in a snowball fight to end all others. Both used their supernatural strength when throwing. If they missed, the packed snow seemed to soar forever before hitting the ground with a soft plop. 

"Aah! Enough!" Buffy finally called, sinking to her knees from exhaustion. Spike jogged over to the Slayer and flopped down onto the snow in front of her. The cold didn’t bother the vampire one bit. 

The clouds had moved on, and Spike lay looking up into the starry sky. Grinning like an idiot, he brought his arms out to his sides and began moving them up and down. He did the same with his legs. 

"What are you doing?" Buffy asked. 

"What’s it bloody look like?" Spike said with a cheeky grin. "I’m making a snow angel." 

Buffy snorted, then covered her mouth embarrassed by the unladylike sound. Spike only laughed at her, then rolled to his feet to look at his creation. He bent and added a halo with his finger. 

"You," Spike said, pointing to the snow angel. 

"Oh, really?" Buffy said, arching her brow. She rolled to her back and created her own snow angel right next to Spike’s. Standing, she looked at it with an expression of intense concentration, then bent and added to it, as well. "You." 

Spike looked down at the lopsided halo and devil’s tail added to the snow angel. His laugher filled the night, rich and full of warmth. 

Buffy grinned at him, then gestured to the house. "How’s about a cup of hot chocolate. Mom’s got the little marshmallows she said you like so much." 

Spike smiled and offered his arm again. "Why not? I always wanted to live dangerously." 

Buffy laughed at his bad joke, and the two mortal enemies went arm in arm into the house. 

 

 

Part Two

 

 

"So, tell me what Brazil is like," Buffy said, pouring the hot milk in with the chocolate mix. "Seeing as how I’m going to spend my way too short life here in Sunnydale." 

"Well, it’s warm," Spike answered, grabbing a handful of mini marshmallows and dropping them in his mug. "At least, I think it was. Can’t really tell in my condition." He gave her a smirk. "Food’s pretty good." 

"Ugh, I did not want to hear that," Buffy said, sitting next to him at the island counter. 

Spike sighed patiently. "I was talking about the food, Slayer, not the people. I enjoy some of what humans have to offer." 

"Really," Buffy said sarcastically. "What’s your favorite food then?" 

"Chocolate chip pancakes," Spike answered. 

Buffy snorted again, choking on her hot chocolate. Spike rubbed her back to help calm down. "Spike, you are the biggest contradiction I’ve ever laid eyes on," she said once she could speak clearly. 

"How’s that, pet?" he asked, taking a sip of his own hot beverage. 

"You kill people, yet you build snowmen. You enjoy blood and violence, yet you love completely and with your entire being. You hate Slayers, yet you’re sitting in my kitchen talking about how you love chocolate chip pancakes," Buffy answered. "I just don’t get you." 

Spike shrugged. "Not much to get." 

Buffy shook her head and sighed. "Why is my life never simple?" 

Spike chuckled and finished his chocolate. He grabbed a few more marshmallows and began popping them into his mouth. 

"You’re acting like a little kid," Buffy commented, watching his actions. 

"Lighten up," Spike said. "Live a little." 

"Why? So you can kill me?" Buffy asked. 

Spike stopped with his hand partway to his mouth. He frowned, looking past her shoulder and out the window on the kitchen door. "What do you say to another truce?" 

"You’ve got to be kidding," Buffy said. 

"No, I’m serious," Spike told her. "You don’t kill me, I won’t kill you." 

"What about my friends? Or my mom?" 

"I’d never kill Joyce," Spike replied, honestly. "I like your mum. She’s got pluck." He shoved another handful of marshmallows in his mouth. "As for your friends, I guess I could agree to that. Well, as long as they don’t attack me first." "I can’t believe I’m seriously thinking about this," Buffy said. "Again." 

"What’s that, pet?" 

"Fine. You got a deal," she told him. "I don’t kill you, you don’t kill me or my friends." 

"Shake on it?" Spike asked, holding out his hand, while eating with the other. Buffy looked at his hand as if it were a snake, but she finally took it. "That’s a girl. I knew you could do it." 

"Bite me," Buffy replied, finishing her own drink. 

"With pleasure," Spike answered in a seductive purr, giving her a naughty look. 

Buffy blushed heavily and grabbed the empty mugs off the counter. She made a big production out of washing them to give her time to get her bearings. She eventually turned back to Spike, who was still downing the marshmallows as if there were no tomorrow. "Spike, if you eat all those now, there’ll be none left for next time." 

Spike grinned at her, then threw some more into his mouth. She rolled her eyes. "Speaking of mums…"

"We were?" Buffy said, taking the bag away from the vampire and closing it up. 

Spike gave her an effective pout, then continued. "We were. Where is yours?" 

"At the gallery," Buffy replied. "She’s having some shindig which I managed to escape from having to go to." 

"What, you don’t like art?" 

"Not that art. I’m more into photographs," Buffy said. "Oh, hey! Let me go get my camera and we’ll take a picture of our snow angels." She turned and jogged out of the kitchen and up the stairs. 

Spike watched her retreating backside, then sighed. He put his head in his hands. "What are you bloody doing, Spike? She’s the Slayer. You hate her." He could hear the sounds of her footsteps returning. "Yeah, then why did you drive all the way back to Sunnyhell from Brazil," he mumbled to himself as Buffy bounced back into the kitchen, Polaroid in hand. 

"C’mon, Spike," she said, putting her coat back on and pulling a flashlight out from under the sink. Spike stood and followed the Slayer outside. "Here, hold the light while I take the picture." 

Spike did as asked, holding the flashlight high to shine on the two figures immobilized in the snow. He watched as Buffy tried to get far enough back to include both snow angels. He shook his head. "Slayer, give me the camera." 

"Why?" 

"Because I bloody asked you to," Spike said. She glared at him, but gave up the camera. "Now, hold the light." Being taller than the blond Slayer, he was able to get both snow angels into the window. "Say cheese," he muttered, and snapped the shutter. 

The Polaroid came out and Buffy took it. "Take another." 

Spike nodded and pressed the button again. He put this one in his pocket, then motioned to Buffy. "Lay down next to the one on the left," he instructed her. She arched her eyebrow at him. "Just do it," he sighed. 

Buffy gave Spike the light, then sank back into the snow. "Maybe if I add a little blood for color," Spike teased. Buffy started to laugh and he snapped the picture. 

Joyce pulled into the driveway to see Buffy standing. Exiting the car, she called to her. "Buffy, what are you doing out here so late?" 

"Hey, mom," Buffy said, walking up to her with Spike. "Just enjoying the snow." 

"Well, that’s a change of attitude. This morning, you’d have thought we moved to Alaska," Joyce said. She turned to Spike. "How are you doing? How’s Dru?" 

Spike ducked his head. "We’re not together anymore." 

"Oh, I’m sorry, Spike," Joyce said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I know you really cared for her." 

Spike nodded as Joyce squeezed his shoulder, then started for the house. "Not too much longer, you two." 

"Yes, mom," Buffy said. When her mother had entered the house, she turned to Spike with a puzzled expression. 

"I told you I liked your mum," was all that Spike would say. 

"I guess I’d better get inside," Buffy said. She took the camera from him. "Thanks for…well, just thanks." 

"You’re welcome, Slayer," Spike said. He gave her a small smile, then turned and walked off into the night. 

Buffy watched the vampire until he disappeared into the shadows. "Oh, no. My life’s not too complicated." 

 

 

Part Three

 

 

Spike lay on his bed in his new home. He’d found and taken over an abandoned shop in the business district near the Bronze. It only had windows in the front, and came complete with a full, finished bathroom. It was strange, but Spike didn’t question his luck. 

Moving in had been rather easy. He didn’t have any real belongings, just some clothes and his lighter. He stole the rest of the furnishings from someone he’d fed off of, after being invited in to use the phone. Currently, he was proud owner of a double bed and linens, a chest of drawers, a TV and VCR complete with remotes and a few movies, a recliner, floor lamp and an ornate desk. 

The desk was his favorite piece of furniture. It reminded him of the one he’d had when he was still human, living with his parents in North London. The dark, cherry wood was carved with intricate designs on the legs and the back panel. It even had a matching chair. 

Spike turned his head and looked at the two pictures propped up against the back of the desk for the umpteenth time. Buffy had gone out the day after their snowball fight and took a Polaroid of the snowman he’d built on a spot of whimsy. She had sought him out that night in order to give the picture to him. She’d even wrote a caption underneath: ‘Bitey, the snowvamp.’ 

It was the third picture which he had in his hand which was really the problem. Sighing, Spike held it up. It was Buffy, laying in the snow, laughing. Spike doubted the Slayer even remembered that he took it.

"All that time with Dru must have sent me over the bloody edge," Spike mumbled to himself. He set the picture back onto his stomach, and returned his thoughtful gaze to the ceiling. 

 

*****

 

Buffy sighed and flipped onto her stomach, trying to get comfortable. But it was her mind that was stopping her from sleeping. She was too busy thinking of her mortal enemy. 

They’d seen each other off and on since the night of the snowball fight. None of the meetings between the two were ever planned, but Buffy knew that she was always on the lookout for Spike, hoping she’d find him. 

"This is really pathetic," Buffy told herself before smashing her face into the pillow and screaming in disgust. "Maybe I’ve been without a boyfriend for too long. Yeah, and Giles loves surfing the Internet." 

Giving up on the pretense of sleeping, the Slayer slipped on a pair of sweats and sweatshirt, grabbed a few stakes, then climbed out her window. Jumping lightly to the ground, she started her third patrol of the night. 

 

*****

 

Purely physical. 

That’s what Spike had almost convinced himself of as he left his lair. It was rather late in the evening, or early in the morning depending on how one looked at it. He had decided that if he got the chance, he’d have her, then his schoolboy infatuation would go away. 

*Right,* Spike thought. *Just keep telling yourself that.* 

It was in that frame of mind when Spike ran into the Slayer. 

"Spike, hi," Buffy practically gushed. "I didn’t think I’d see you out this close to sunrise." 

But instead of responding, Spike yanked Buffy to him and kissed her. 

He pushed past her lips and teeth to plunder her mouth with his tongue. He could hear her heartbeat rapidly pounding beneath her skin, calling to him. Weaving a hand into her blond hair, Spike held her close kissing them both senseless. 

Buffy moaned and gave into the kiss. This had been what she really wanted to do since Spike had returned to Sunnydale. Allowing no one to come close to her had taken its toll on her. She craved physical contact, which is why she was standing in the middle of the street being thoroughly kissed by her mortal enemy. 

Spike finally broke the kiss, letting Buffy catch her breath. Not hesitating, he took her hand and led her back to his place, which was close by. 

"Spike, what are you doing?" Buffy asked, being dragged along behind him. He didn’t answer. Pushing open the back door, he pulled the Slayer into his lair and led her to where he had set up home. He let go of her hand only to turn on the light and shed his coat. 

"Take off your coat," Spike instructed gruffly. When she didn’t move, he did it for her, jerking the leather over her arms and throwing it to the floor. 

"Why are you doing this?" Buffy asked, trembling slightly at his use of force. Was this the end of their truce? 

"A reason?" Spike asked. "You want a reason?" 

Buffy nodded and looked into his chiseled face. 

A light flickered in the depths of his blue eyes. "A reason," Spike repeated in an amused little murmur. "Well, I have a reason for you." 

His reason tasted an awful lot like a kiss. Buffy never quite knew when she closed her eyes. She knew simply that one minute she was questioning him and the next she was surrounded by him. 

His argument wasn’t a gentle one. Spike pulled her to him so tightly she couldn’t breathe. His hands clutched at her, tangling in Buffy’s hair and holding her to him. His mouth met hers with a bruising hunger. 

Spike’s mouth was predatory, nipping, sipping, plucking at her tender skin. He didn’t wait for an invitation to invade, but sought her tongue with hard strokes. Buffy gasped and fought for balance, even in his tight grasp. She arched closer, his body cooling her hot one. 

"You want a reason?" Spike grated out, his mouth at her ear, his hand sliding up to cup a breast. "I’m bewitched. Damn it, I know better, but all I’ve been thinking of is doing this." 

Lighting splintered in her with his hungry touch, the torment of his hands on her. Buffy’s mind whirled with light and darkness and need. She opened her mouth and kissed Spike’s neck, reveling in the coolness of his skin. 

"I’ve tried so hard to stay away," Spike growled into her throat, spilling chills with his tongue. "Taken enough cold showers to drop the bloody water table…"

Buffy nodded, panting, sinking into his touch. "I know…"

"Walked away when no sane man would…" 

"I -" his mouth was working lower, tasting her neck and collarbone. "-know…."

Spike moved back, only to divest Buffy of her sweatshirt and bra. Buffy bit her lip as she watched him remove his own shirt. 

"I tried being mad at you." 

She couldn’t even nod. Spike’s hand had reached out to caress her nipple. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t hold still. But she couldn’t stand up anymore, either. 

"Spike-" 

Somewhere in the depths of his hunger Spike must have heard the desperate note to her voice. Pulling himself together, he held where he was, his hand at her breast, his arm circling her waist. 

When he lifted his eyes to hers, Buffy was halted by the volcano she’d unleashed. A molten energy, a voracious thirst that had only flickered in warning before, now glowed from his icy eyes. 

Sweeping Buffy into his arms, Spike carried her to the bed and sat down, settling her back against his body onto his lap. "I don’t know what to do with you," he said, his hands lifting once again to her hair. Wrapping his hands in it, lifting it from her neck, he brought his face to hers. "You wouldn’t know a wolf if it bit you." 

Buffy wanted to move. She wanted to run far from the pleasure coursing through her body. Instead, she let herself be kissed thoroughly and deeply. Her own hands were on Spike’s shoulders, shoulders like concrete, like tensile steel that bent with terrible pressure. 

Their tongues parried and parted. Teeth nipped and tested. Soft groans of hunger mingled and passion built. 

"I should let you walk away…while I have a chance…"

Buffy felt Spike’s hand fall again, felt it find her breast and knead it. She pressed into his touch, hungry and aching for him. She twisted in his hold so that she could arch against his cold chest. Her hands began to wander, hungered for the touch of his cool skin. His hands commanded. 

"I should make you go…"

Buffy gasped, her head back, as Spike nipped her throat. 

"You should shut up," Buffy advised, breathlessly. 

Spike chuckled against her throat, a deep growl of pleasure, of surprise and hunger. Buffy pulled his head down to her. He slid a hand down her belly, over her thighs, her knees, his mouth still marking a passage along her throat. 

A fire burned in her belly and slid into her legs, following the path of his hands. She arched so that Spike would turn his attention to her aching breasts. 

He did, cupping a breast in his hand, weighing it, caressing it. Pleasure tightened in Buffy and she fought for air. Her head fell back, her eyes closed. She felt Spike take her breast in his mouth and she groaned. 

Desire flared in her. His tongue stirred it into near frenzy. Buffy felt her legs melting, her limbs shattering. She clutched at him, rocked in his arms, hummed with the surprise of it. She begged him with her hands and her cries and her body, and he answered by slipping his fingers beneath the material of her sweats, seeking out her fire. 

Abruptly, Spike pulled away. Buffy stiffened, ready to protest, only to feel herself spun around to face him, to feel her sweats slide from her body and find herself fitted neatly straddling against Spike’s hips. 

His pants were gone, too. She didn’t know how he’d done it. She didn’t really care. Her body sang with the proximity. Spike wasn’t smiling. His eyes were fierce and dark and hungry. Buffy shivered with the thrill of it. Angel had always been so tentative and gentle. She craved Spike’s strength. She could feel his arousal against her, full and intimate, and instinctively eased against him. His body glowed in the soft lighting, accenting the shadows and smoothness of his face. 

Buffy loved Spike’s body. But more, she loved his face, the handsome planes and steely jaw, the dark flavors of his mouth and the fire in his eyes. When she lifted her gaze to meet his, she found what she’d expected and more. She found an inferno, a hot, living ferocity that threatened to consume her. And knowing that it could, she smiled. She smiled and invited him to do just that. 

From that moment grace was lost to hunger, finesse to desire. Spike let his hands loose on Buffy and she answered with her own. She writhed against him, moaning with the agony he incited, seeking more, seeking him. He gasped, growled, cursed as she tormented him. 

And when Buffy began to splinter, her body coming apart at the magic of Spike’s greedy fingers, he took her under the arms with hands as strong as their passion and lifted her onto him. 

She dug her nails into his back, clutching him as they moved together. Head thrown back, Spike nipped and licked at the long column of her throat. He growled as they came closer to the peak and when Buffy finally went over the edge, she felt Spike follow her, his hand clenching on her waist, bruising her, his voice hoarse and surprised and awed. 

Spike held her close, heated skin against cold. The fire of her passage had scorched him, ruining him from ever loving a non-human again, destroying his desire to mate with any other. He wanted Buffy as his own and the coming night he would stake his possession, let the community know that this woman was his and not to be touched. 

He chuckled at the thought of how the community would react to his claiming the Slayer. Some would envy him, some would hate him, some would champion him and some would try to kill him. But she was worth it. 

"What are you laughing at?" Buffy asked, her head tucked on his shoulder, her breath hot on his cool neck. 

"Nothing, Slayer," Spike answered. He stood, still within her, and laid them back on the bed. Spike brought his head back and looked into Buffy’s eyes. He could see desire still burned in their depths. He started moving in her and bent his head to her lips once more. "Nothing at all." 

 

 

Part Four

 

 

"What are you smiling at?" Willow asked her best friend. They were seated in the cafeteria, playing with what the kitchen claimed to be food. 

Buffy had left Spike’s lair barely in enough time get through her window before her alarm. She showered, dressed and gulped down some breakfast, then went to school. 

"I’m having a happy," Buffy told her. "School is out for a week after today, vamp activity has been at an all time low, the snow melted and my love life is actually looking perky." 

"New hottie on the waterfront?" Willow said. 

"Oh, yeah," Buffy said. "Major salty goodness." 

"Details!" Willow demanded. "I have to live through you now, so give me all the dirt, no matter how small." 

"Oz will come around soon," Buffy told her. 

"I know. It’s just…" Willow began, then stopped herself. "Oh, no. You’re not getting me to go there. Uh-huh. Now, details." 

Buffy sighed happily. She reached into her purse and dug out the two pictures she carried with her practically everywhere. She passed them to Willow. 

"What’s this?" Willow asked. She laughed at the black fangs in the snowman, then at the devil’s tail and crooked halo on the snow angel. 

"Me and my honey did the snow angels. He did the one on the right and I did the one with the tail," Buffy said. "That was after we’d pummeled each other with snowballs." 

"What about the snowman? Are those really fangs?" 

"Yup. I caught him building it," Buffy said. "It was so cute and funny to see Spi…er, a grown man making a snowman." 

"How come you didn’t spill sooner?" Willow complained. 

"I didn’t think there’d be anything to spill," Buffy said. She blushed. 

Willow noticed and pounced. "You didn’t…you did!" 

Buffy turned even brighter red and ducked her head. "Will…loud enough?" 

Willow squealed with geeker joy. "Was it good? How’d he look? Where did it happen? Was it wonderful? Was…"

Buffy interrupted her. "It was wow," she sighed. "Hard and hot and fierce and passionate. I still have bruises." 

Willow bounced in her seat. "Ooh! This is so great!" 

"What’s so great?" Xander said, joining his two best friends. He started to eat, but changed his mind when the food seemed to crawl away on its own. 

"Oh! Um…Buffy got an ‘A’," Willow lied. "In…uh, health." 

"Willow!" Buffy said. But Xander hadn’t noticed, he was too busy playing with his food. 

 

*****

 

He missed her. 

It had only been a few hours since Buffy had left his bed, but Spike missed her with his whole being. Grumbling to himself, he tried to get comfortable. He needed to sleep in order to preserve his strength for the coming night. The night he declared the Slayer as his. 

He acknowledged the dangers associated with claiming a human, dangers from predators, dangers from competitors, dangers from the mortal world. But those dangers were nothing compared to the feel of the Slayer’s body beneath his, responding to his touch, craving it as much as he craved hers. 

Groaning as his body reacted to his thoughts, Spike gave into the temptation and stroked his hard, cold shaft as he pictured Buffy in the throes of passion as she was that morning. 

 

*****

 

"Hey, Giles," Buffy said, entering the library after school for training. "Your Slayer is here, ready, willing and able to beat your tweed behind." 

"Er…hello, Buffy," Giles said, stepping out of his office. "Before we get started, I-I wanted to let you know that Angel will be in town tonight." 

"What for?" Buffy asked, a twinge of pain in her heart. 

"He has come across several books for me," Giles told her. 

"Why doesn’t he just mail them?" Buffy asked. "Or go the brownie route." 

"Um..." Giles said, confused by her words. "They are much too important to rely on the postal service." 

Buffy sighed. That would teach her not to say things were going good. "Thanks for the update, Giles. Now, let’s get crackin’ cuz I got a hot date tonight." 

"Date?" Giles asked. 

"Four letter word, rhymes with late, which is what I’m going to be if we don’t get started," Buffy said, opening the weapons locker and taking out a staff. 

"Do you think that it is wise?" Giles said. "After your previous experiences with dating, I mean." 

"Chill, Giles," Buffy said. "He’s not going to interfere with my sacred duty, he’s not going to lose his soul and he’s not going to get killed because of me." 

 

*****

 

"I’m going to get killed because of that bloody girl," Spike swore as he got out of bed. What little sleep he had gotten was plagued with erotic dreams that woke him up with a painful arousal. He made his way into the plush bathroom and stepped into the shower. 

As the water coursed over his body, Spike thought back to the last time the Slayer had been claimed. It had given him great delight to try and take her away from his sire. Even when Angelus had come back into the fold, he’d gone after her, succeeding in making a truce to take his sire down. But when he’d come back to Sunnydale, running from his feelings for Drusilla, his sire’s claim on Buffy was still evident. 

It wasn’t until Angel had left her here, alone, that Spike had triumphed. 

Humans found the concept of possessing another immoral, degrading. With vampires, it was a form of protection and commitment, giving one’s own life for the human involved. Some vampires even claimed another vampire, as Spike did Drusilla after Angelus forfeited her. But he’d lost that claim to his sire once he’d returned. 

Snapping out of his reverie, Spike turned off the shower and dressed in his usual black jeans, T-shirt, red button down and boots. With a quick glance to the front of the store, he saw that the sun was down. Sliding on his duster, Spike went in search of something to eat. 

 

*****

 

Buffy grinned and wiggled her toes. She was lounging in a bubble bath, preparing for what she hoped to be another wow of a night. As much as she loathed to admit it, Spike was a great guy. Her only hang up was that he was a cold blooded killer. 

But so was she, if someone wanted to get technical. 

She pulled the plug and steeped out of the tub Smiling at herself in the mirror, Buffy began her hair and makeup. She wasn’t going to get too dressed up, after all, she still had to patrol…and her clothes would be coming of anyway. 

Humming to herself as she dressed, Buffy wondered what Spike was doing, besides feeding off of the innocent. 

 

*****

Snow Angels

 

by Saber ShadowKitten  
Holidays: Part 1

 

 

Spike was having fun. 

It had been over a month since he got into a knock-down, drag-out fight and this one was a beauty. The local ‘constabulary,' consisting of eight vampires, had been sent to remove the ‘Spike situation' again, as he was told by one of the uglies he was fighting. 

"The sound of breaking bones," Spike said as he snapped one of the vampire's legs. "Music to my ears." 

Grabbing the next nearest attacker, Spike spun them both just as another tried to stake him in the back. The vamp he was holding burst into dust. Spike snatched the stake out of the other's hand before the air had a chance to clear. 

Whirling , he lashed his foot out, catching the newly unarmed vamp across the face, sending him crashing to the ground. A fourth one wrapped his arms around Spike's neck, but the peroxide blond shoved the stake under his arm, catching the attacker off guard. Spike grinned happily as he exploded into dust. 

He dove and rolled as a fifth swung a stop sign like a sword, landing in a crouch next to the one with the broken leg. "Hello, mate," Spike greeted cheerfully as he grabbed the downed vampire's arm and broke it in two. "Stay put, I have a message for you," he instructed, bouncing lightly to his feet. 

He shot one arm out and caught the pole attached to the stop sign as the vampire tried to behead him again. With a wink, Spike shoved the sign back, causing the metal pole to embed itself in his opponent's stomach. 

"That's gotta hurt," he said sarcastically. He ducked as the attacker whose stake Spike had stolen threw a punch. "Thought you could sneak up on me, eh mate?" he asked, launching his own series of punches, ending with a stake to the heart. 

Three of the good squad had been hanging back, but now with two of their brethren down and three dusted, they charged. Spike went down as they tackled, loosing the stake, but he quickly rolled to his feet. Immediately, he shot his foot out to the right. The vamp he caught with his kick went flying back, hitting the alley wall. 

He ducked as another swung, then grabbed the extended arm and twisted, throwing the vamp over Spike's shoulder to the ground. He removed a stake from his pocket, one Buffy had left behind that morning, and dusted him. At the same time, he extended his leg back, knocking the remaining tag team member away. 

Somersaulting forward, Spike sprang to his feet and pick up the vampire he'd thrown against the alley wall. He headbutted the vamp, then threw him at the last standing one. They fell to the ground in a heap. 

Exhilarated, Spike grabbed the pole of the stop sign still embedded in one of the attackers. He pulled and it came out with a squishing sound, along with several non-used organs. "Sorry ‘bout that," Spike said, then swung the stop sign, cleaving off the bleeding vampire's head. 

He continued the spin, using the sign as momentum and launched it at the remaining two. Spike followed right after it, punching and staking them in quick succession. 

Brushing off his pants, Spike stood and sauntered over to the last of the vampires, who had followed the master's instructions and had not moved. He cradled his broken arm, decidedly nervous at the barely injured Spike. 

"Now then, mate," he said, pocketing the stake and helping the injured vamp to his feet. "I have a message for you to deliver. Tell Trick that I'm not leaving. Ever." The other vampire nodded. "Good. Go off with you now," he gestured towards the end of the alley. The vamp shot Spike a frightened glance, then began to hobble off. He got to the mouth of the alley when Spike's voice halted him. 

"One more thing," he said. "The Slayer…I'm staking my claim on her. She's mine." The last was said with deadly intent, and the other vampire shivered, then continued on his way. 

 

 

Part Five

 

 

"Why do you look like you just ate James Van Der Beek?" 

"What's that, pet?" Spike asked the Slayer, clearly confused. It was still early when they had ‘accidentally' run into each other in the park, and Buffy was amused by his joyful air. 

"Dawson? From Dawson's Creek, the TV show?" Buffy clarified. 

"You know, he would be someone I would like to eat," Spike replied. "Annoying bugger. I like that Pacey bloke, though. Banging the teacher…" he grinned at the thought. "The guy who plays him…what's his bloody name…he was in those Ducks movies with Billy the Kid. Now, there's a mate I admire." 

"You knew Billy the Kid?" Buffy asked incredulously. "I thought you were in Europe for most of your unlife." 

"I meant the actor, pet," he answered. "One of the Sheens. The father was in Apocalypse Now and Gettysburg, both marvelous pictures if I recall." 

"Oh," Buffy said, feeling like the dumbest blond in the world. "My bad." Spike only flashed a sexy grin and rocked back on his heels. "So…um, why do you have such a happy?" 

"Can't a chap be in a good mood without causing suspicion?" 

"If it were anyone else but you." 

"Maybe I'm thinking about what I'm going to do to you in about thirty seconds," he replied. 

Buffy flushed and her breath caught in anticipation. Her tongue shot out unconsciously, moistening her lips and her heart began to thump in her chest. 

Spike could hear her heart racing, the blood pounding in her veins. In three quick steps he had her in his arms, brutally punishing her mouth with his own. He pushed his hands into her hair, tangling the strands on his long fingers, holding her face to his. He couldn't get enough of her. 

Buffy slid her arms around his narrow waist, under his coat and gripped his black T-shirt. The coolness of his lips was in sharp contrast with her own, sending bolts of longing and hunger through her system. He broke the kiss, moving one hand to push her coat and shirt from her left shoulder. He began to kiss his way up the side of her neck, latching onto her ear, nibbling and sucking the pierced lobe. She arched into him and he growled deep in his throat at the contact. 

Spike moved back down the slope of her neck, his features transforming. He sliced the surface of her skin with his fangs, then let his face slide back into its human mask, licking and sucking where the blood welled. Buffy shivered at the touch of his fangs, but not out of fear. The slight pain she felt was instantly replaced by intense pleasure as his tongue worked its magic on her creamy skin. She inhaled sharply as he gently bit her shoulder with his blunt teeth, pushing her hands up under his shirt in excitement. 

Her warm fingers skimmed over his back, lightly scratching with her nails. Spike pressed himself against her, his arousal straining the material of his black jeans. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her, to feel the heat surround him, engulf him. He raised his head and gave Buffy another searing kiss, only to tear his mouth away to convey his desire with a harsh voice. 

"I want you. Now." 

At Buffy's nod, he picked her up and smashed her to a tree. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist as he ground against her, plundering her mouth with his tongue. All tenderness was lost to hunger and need as Spike shoved a hand between them, ripping her panties away. He freed his aching member and shoved it into her hot, wet body with one ferocious thrust. 

His head flew back as the fire of her core overwhelmed him, growling in pleasure. He slammed into her with all his strength, bruising their pelvises when he hit. It was not certain who went first, only that Buffy's screams echoed his own hoarse shout as they climaxed, her inner muscles clenching around him as he spilled his seed deep inside of her. 

Spike was the first to break the hushed silence. "Cor, luv. I'm surprised I haven't bloody combusted because of you." 

Buffy blushed as she unwrapped her legs from around his waist and lowered to the ground. Spike took a deep, unneeded breath, then adjusted their clothing. He planted a hard, possessive kiss on her lips, then stepped back, a slightly dazed, wild gleam in his blue eyes. He started to say something, but changed his mind, lighting up a cigarette instead. 

"Those things'll kill you," Buffy said with a straight face. He blinked and then frowned as his mind tried to catch up with what she said. She started to giggle, leading to an all-out laugh as a light came on behind his eyes. 

"Very funny, Slayer," he said, talking a deep drag. "You should be more concerned for your own health." 

"Are you going Basic Instinct on me?" she asked, clearly non-pulsed by his words. "Because let me tell you, I can take you any day." 

"I beg to differ, kitten," he replied. "After all, I just ‘took' you here in the park." 

She tried to sputter a response, but failed miserably, her face turning red once again. Spike chuckled at her discomfort, then threw his arm around her shoulder and escorted her from the park. "What now, pet?" 

"I still have to make a run through my usual haunts," she said. "And I promised I'd meet up with Faith to compare damage statistics." 

"Faith? That the other Slayer? The one that replaced the bird Dru offed?" Spike asked. 

"It just so sends tinglies my way to hear you talk about Kendra that way," Buffy said, semi-angrily. "She was my friend, and I don't appreciate it that your ex-ho killed her!" 

"A bit touchy, aren't we, luv?" he asked. "Slayers are born to die. I don't have any say in the matter." 

She snorted derisively. "You don't have any say? What about the two you killed?" 

"Yeah, well…if I hadn't a killed them, I wouldn't have met you, now would I?" Spike said defensively. He was slowly become angry with her. 

"Oh, that's great logic," she said sarcastically. "That's like stealing cases of pop to get the coupon for a free one." 

Spike stopped walking and looked at her. "What? Now you're not making any bloody sense." 

"Oh, so now I'm dumb?" Buffy asked, hands on her hips. 

"Stop putting words in my mouth!" Spike snapped at her. 

"Then stop acting like a jerk!" 

They fumed at each other, both their eyes flaring, until the vampire dropped his gaze and swore. "This is bloody ridiculous. I'm standing in the middle of the street, arguing with the Slayer about nothing, when I can think of about a million things I'd rather be doing to her." 

"Uh, hello, I'm right here," Buffy said, annoyed. 

"Er…right," Spike said, giving her a sheepish grin. "Sorry ‘bout that." 

Buffy threw her hands in the air in exasperation. "What is it with me and vampires?" 

"Must be our charm," he replied. "Or our sexy, never changing looks." 

"Who said you were sexy?" she asked, innocently, their fight forgotten. "I'd kill them for lying to you." 

Spike tried to give her an irritated look, but spoiled it with a smile. "Touché, Slayer." 

 

 

Part Six

 

 

"So, are you going to follow me around all night like a lost puppy?" Buffy asked two hours later. She hadn't seen a single vamp, other than Spike, and she was extremely bored. 

"That was the plan," he answered, a cheerful note in his voice and a small smile on his lips. "Why? Am I bothering you?" 

"Not really, but it's hard to do my sacred duty if there are no vamps around to dust. And for some reason, I have a feeling you have something to do with that," she replied. "And don't give me that ‘I'm innocent' look. It ain't working." 

"I don't know what you mean, ducks,' he said. 

She scowled at him and was about to give a scathing retort when she saw Faith in the distance. "There's Faith. Fade into the shadows or something," she said. 

"What, you're not going to introduce us?" Spike asked with fake dismay. 

"No." 

"You're not ashamed of your mate, are you?" 

Buffy rolled her eyes, completely missing his reference to her status with him. "Just hide." 

"Very well," he sighed dramatically. "But only because you asked nicely." He grinned cheekily at her, then disappeared. 

"Save me from vampire drama queens," Buffy said to herself as Faith walked up. "Hey, Faith. How's the action?" 

"Jumpin', B," Faith replied. "I must've dusted at least a dozen." 

"Really? I haven't seen a single baddie," Buffy responded. 

"Well, I'll be sure to send a few your way," Faith joked. "Who's the guy?" 

"What guy?" 

"The tall blondie who was here a second ago," she said. 

"Him? Just some guy," Buffy replied. She could have sworn she heard Spike chuckle, so she decided to have some fun. "You should have seen his clothes. Can I say stuck in the ‘Me' decade? And his hair? Root city." 

"I heard that, pet," Spike's voice floated to them from the darkness. "Why don't you tell her about your clothing…or lack thereof." 

Faith jumped and Buffy cringed when they heard his British accent. "Was that him?" Faith asked. "What a sexy voice." 

"Please, don't feed his ego," Buffy begged the girl. She raised her voice to Spike. "And I thought I told you to vamoose." 

"Sorry, luv, but you know how well I follow directions," he replied, stepping from the shadows. 

Faith's mouth dropped open as he joined them. "Damn girl, I didn't know he was so fine." Buffy snorted as Spike shot Faith a sexy grin. "Are you taken? Cuz if you're not, I'm free and easy." 

Spike arched an eyebrow at her offer, but shook his head. "Sadly, I must decline. I've already claimed someone as mine." This time, Buffy groaned and hit her head with her hand. "What's wrong, poodle?" 

"First, I'm not your dog. Second, you have to be the most egotistical man I've known since Angelus was free. Mine, indeed." 

"I try." 

"Angelus as in Angel?" Faith interjected. "But I thought he was still around." 

"Angel is," Buffy replied. "But his evil alter-ego went by way of the do-do." 

"And he's a wuss once more," Spike added. Buffy punched him on the arm. "It's true, not that I would want that wanker back again. The way he pawed all over Dru…" 

"You know, I'd really rather not hear about that," Buffy interrupted him. 

He flashed her a slightly apologetic grin. "Sorry about that, sweets. It's not necessarily something I want to relive either." 

"I don't know which one of us had it worse. He may have killed Miss Calendar and terrorized me, but you had to live with him for months, stuck in that wheelchair." 

"And who's fault was that?" Spike asked with a mocking smile. 

"You should have seen that throw I made to knock that organ on you," Buffy said with a bragging grin. "Perfect form, just the right amount of strength with that censer and bam! Instant avalanche." 

"Ever the resourceful Slayer," he said. "That's why you're so bloody hard to kill." 

"Sleeping with the enemy is a plus, too," she said, giving him a lewd wink. 

"Hold up, hold up. You two took the interchange without signaling, now I'm lost," Faith said. Buffy turned sharply to the other Slayer, having forgotten she was even there. "You two tried to kill each other. What's up with that?" 

"Oh, um…well," Buffy stammered. She looked to Spike for help, but the vampire put his hands up in refusal. "It's like this…" 

She didn't get to finish because Faith saw several vampires behind the duo, preparing to attack. "Sorry, B. Looks like company of the pointy kind," she said, dashing around them and throwing herself at the vamps. 

"Saved by the dead," Buffy said, sighing with relief. She gave Spike a flirtatious smile. "I have work to do, bunny. Ta-ta!" With that, she ran over to fight at Faith's side. Spike turned to watch, arms crossed, and a pensive look on his face as he waited to see what would happen when the vampires saw Buffy. 

Faith had dusted one vamp already and was efficiently pounding on two at the same time, alternating with kicks and punches. Two others were trying to get close enough to grab her arms, but when they saw Buffy run up, they froze, their hideous features reflecting fear. 

"Now, hasn't anyone ever told you it's not nice to play with your food?" Buffy said, coming at the two. She spun and kicked the closer one, sending him back a few feet. 

The second one widened his eyes in fear and held up his hands defensively. "Sorry, Slayer, we didn't know you was here." He turned and ran off, the second one close on his heels. 

Confused, Buffy turned to help Faith. She tapped one of the vamps on the other girl, and he spun, backhanding her across the face with enough force to knock her to the ground. He leapt onto her back, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling so her neck was exposed. He lowered his head to sink his fangs in her neck when he got a clear view as to who he captured. "Oh, shit. The Slayer," he said, dropping her head and scrambling away from her as fast as possible. He ran out into the street, watching behind him, and crashed right into Spike, falling back onto the ground. 

The older vampire stood arms still crossed, staring at the younger one with a feral gleam in his blue eyes. "Master Spike! I'm sorry, I-I-I didn't know it was her!" Spike didn't respond to his fearful stammering, didn't change his posture or break eye contact. The younger vampire began to sweat, praying to a god he didn't believe in to save his undead life. 

Faith had staked the remaining vampire and helped Buffy to her feet. They both turned to see what was happening between Spike and the younger vampire. With a shrug to Faith's questioning glance, Buffy silently moved closer behind the fallen vamp, stake in hand. "I-I-I won't hurt her! You made your claim," she heard him say. "None of the younger ones will, even if Trick orders it!" 

"Is this a private tete-a-tete, or can anyone join in?" Buffy said, standing directly behind the vamp. His head whipped around, took one look at her, and panicked. Pushing himself to his feet, he ran as fast as he could, disappearing into the night. She watched after him, then turned her attention on her lover. "What was that about?" 

"Hmm?" Spike asked, staring in the direction of the younger vamp. He shrugged, unfolding his arms. "Beats me, pet." 

"Now, tell me - why don't I believe you?" she said, looking pointedly at him. He gave her a brilliant smile, then took out a cigarette and lit it. Buffy growled in frustration. 

Spike chuckled and quickly changed the subject. "Weren't you going to visit your friends at the Bronze?" 

Buffy glanced at her watch. "Yikes! I'm suppose to be there five minutes ago!" She turned to Faith. "Would you like to come, too?" 

"I'm down with that," Faith replied. She gestured to Spike. "What about him?" 

"Oh, he has better things to do, don't you?" 

"Actually, I do, ducks," Spike said. He took a step forward and grabbed her bodily to him, planting a hard kiss on her unsuspecting lips. "Until later, my sweet." He shot a grin over Buffy's shoulder to Faith, then left, disappearing into the darkness like only vampires can. 

"Woah, girl. That man is all that and a bag of chips," Faith said. They started to walk to the Bronze. "So, you gettin' any?" 

"Faith!" 

"I'll take that as a positive," Faith smiled. "I'm betting that he has one sexy ass under those clothes. He any good?" 

Buffy covered her flaming cheeks with her hands. "Can we not discuss this?" 

"What fun is that?" 

 

 

Part Seven

 

 

Buffy felt a hand clamp on her shoulder and she spun, ready to attack. "Angel! Don't do that!" 

"I need to talk to you," Angel said. He didn't wait for her to follow as he turned and left the Bronze. 

"Ok…guys, I'll be back," Buffy told her friends. 

"Sure thing, Ah-nuld," Xander cracked. "If you see Linda Hamilton, send her my way." 

Buffy shook her head at his lame joke, grabbed her jacket and exited to club. She found Angel in an alley, pacing back and forth. "So, what's up?" 

"Spike's here." 

"Tell me something I don't know." 

Angel stopped and narrowed his eyes at her. "And he's still alive?" 

"The term is ‘undead' and yes he is," Buffy said, becoming irritated with Angel's tone of voice. 

"Did you know he staked his claim on you?" 

"He did what?" 

"Claimed you. Announced to the community that you were his," he spat the word and began to pace once more. 

"Ok, not seeing the big picture here," Buffy said, slightly confused. 

Angel didn't respond. He was too busy carrying on a one sided conversation with himself. "I shouldn't have left. I knew I shouldn't have given up my claim. Damn you, Spike!" 

Buffy stuck her hands in the pockets of her jacket and glared at her old love. She had no idea what he was talking about, only that it had to deal with Spike. She really didn't want to have a conversation that included the peroxide blond vampire with Angel. Seeing him also reopened old wounds that she wanted to heal. He finally stopped ranting and she pounced on the silence. "Angel, I'm going to give you three minutes to explain, then I'm going back inside." 

"Spike claimed you," Angel explained in an angry tone. "That means he told the vampire community that you were his property and off-limits upon pain of death." 

"So that's why those vamps went running," Buffy said, mostly to herself. Then the rest of his words penetrated. "Wait a minute. I'm property?"

Angel could see anger flare up in her eyes and went to explain, considering he had claimed her once. "It means something different to vampires, Buffy. When a vampire claims a human, it means he or she has chosen that human as a mate. Usually this leads to the human being turned." 

Buffy stood stunned at the revelation. She found her voice to ask a painful question as his early tirade came to mind. "But, I heard you say you had claimed me, too. Did you want to make me a vampire?" 

"No, Buffy," he answered with a quick shake of his head. "At least, not until I lost my soul. That's why there wasn't as many attacks on you afterwards. The younger ones were afraid and Spike was incapacitated." 

"What does Spike being stuck in a wheelchair have to do with me?" 

"As an older vampire, he could try to take you from me, to break the claim. Rolling around in a wheelchair made it impossible for him to physically do it." 

"How would he have been able to break it?" Buffy asked, mortified yet wanting to know more. 

"By turning you himself. Or killing you," Angel answered. "Or by having sex with you." 

Buffy's eyes welled with tears and she furiously wiped at them. She did not want to think that Spike had only used her to one up Angel. And she also did not want to think about the pain in her heart, either. "I have to go," she told him. She turned and ran off into the night. 

 

*****

 

Buffy avoided Spike over the next few days. She asked Faith to take patrolling, spent extra time with her mom or at Willow's house, convinced Giles she needed more training. She also made sure to lock her window and shut the drapes to prevent herself from letting him inside. Angel had gone back to LA without so much as a by your leave and the Slayer sunk into depression. 

As the sun faded on Christmas Eve, Buffy left her house for the Bronze's Holiday Party. Wearing a form fitting, off the shoulder red dress with a flared skirt and dark heels, she mingled in the crowded teen hangout, looking for her friends. 

She found Spike instead. 

Her breath caught as she studied him, her eyes roving over his dark green mock turtleneck and black chinos before returning to his chiseled features. She swallowed as he approached. 

"You've been avoiding me, luv," he said in a low tone, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Why?" He already knew the answer. Word had gone around that Angel was seen with the Slayer and he put two and two together. 

"Are you going to make me a vampire?" 

Or so he thought. "What? Where did you get that bloody idea?" 

"Angel told me about your ‘claim'," she said, venom in her voice. "Is that why you wanted me? To pull one over on him? It must be a big thing in the vampire community to break your sire's claim." 

Spike looked at her with surprise and hurt. "The claim was broken when he left you, Slayer," he said softly. A slow song started and he took her arm and pulled her none to gently to the dance floor. Buffy had no choice but to put her arms around his neck and dance as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, holding her close. "Relax, luv. I don't want to change you," he whispered in her ear. "It's your passion and fire that I fell in love with, and that would be gone if you were made a vampire." 

Buffy moved her head back to look into his eyes. "You love me?" 

"Yes, pet, I do. That's why I claimed you as my mate," he said, kissing her softly. "That's the only reason." 

Buffy could read the love and truth in his blue eyes. Her lips started to tremble, so she pressed herself close to him as they continued to sway to the music. When the song ended, she took Spike's hand and led him to a quiet corner of the Bronze. They sat facing each other, knees touching, as she put her thoughts together. "How can you love me? I'm your worst enemy," she finally said. 

"I love you for the same reason everyone else does," he answered. "Your strength, heat, wit, skill, venerability, courage, beauty, the list goes on forever." He leaned back and took something out of his pocket. "This is for you." 

He pressed the object into her hand. "It's an anklet. I figured a bracelet might break with all the fighting you do." The silver braided chain was interwoven with small diamonds and clear, deep green stones. 

"It's beautiful," Buffy whispered. 

"And I didn't even kill anyone to get it." 

She smiled and laughed softly at his remark. "Put it on me?" 

Spike lifted her trim ankle and attacked the clasp. He ran his fingers lightly on her calf, desire and love reflecting from his eyes. "Merry Christmas, Slayer." 

"Hey guys, what's shakin'?" Faith's voice brought them back to reality. Spike blinked and dropped Buffy's leg. 

"Faith, hey," Buffy said unenthusiastically. "What brings you here?" 

"Uh, party, eggnog, mistletoe?" she said, pointing to the decoration above their heads. "Ring any bells?" 

The couple looked up at the same time, then at each other. With a quirk of his mouth, Spike leaned forward and tenderly brushed his lips to hers. "I love you, Buffy, " he said in a voice so low only she could hear. Faith cleared her throat loudly. "I'll…uh, get us some drinks." 

Spike rose and left the two girls alone. Faith took his seat, watching his retreating behind. "Damn girl, he's even hotter than I remembered." 

"Yeah," Buffy sighed, then blushed. "So, um, how was the slaying?" 

"Hi Buffy!" Willow greeted as she and Xander joined the two Slayers. "When did you get here?" 

"Not long ago," she replied. Her best friends sat on the couch opposite her with Faith. She hoped Spike would stay away. 

"Wow, Buff. Nice bit of jewelry you got there," Xander said, pointing to her crossed legs. 

Willow looked where he pointed and gasped, leaning forward to examine the anklet more closely. "Buffy, where did you get this?" Willow asked. 

"It was a gift," she replied. "Why? You like?" 

"This is a handmade charm," Willow said excitedly. "Witches make them for special reasons. See, the types of stones that were used? Diamonds protect the wearer from bad dreams, demons and nightmares and symbolize bravery and strength. This green one is diopside, and represents the bearer's love, commitment and trust for you. The interwoven silver is a protectant, binding the stones together." 

"Boy, Will, you sure know your witchy stuffy," Buffy said, looking down at the gift. Her heart was pounding in her chest. 

"So, where did you get it? From your man?" Willow asked. "The same guy who…you know." 

"Man? What man?" Xander said, looking around. "When did you get a man? And why isn't it me?" 

"Sorry, Xand," Buffy said. "And yes, Willow, it was from him. After all that's happened to me, I didn't think…" She looked up at her friends and saw Spike standing behind them, watching her expectantly. She took a deep breath when she met his eyes, her body felt as if it were on fire. "I'm falling in love with him. From his dark roots to his contradictory nature." 

"So, when can we meet this knight in shining armor who managed to rescue your heart?" Xander asked. 

"His armor is a bit tarnished," she replied. Spike smirked. "But maybe you'll meet him, only if you promise not to wig." 

"Wig" Willow said, eyes widening. "He's wigable? Oh boy, this can't be a good thing. It's not…Angel, is it?" 

"No, it's not Angel," Buffy reassured them. "He's much…blonder." She could see Spike chuckle behind them. 

"But he is living, right?" Xander added. 

"Define living?" Buffy replied. As her two friends mouths dropped open, a slow song started. Spike looked at her questioningly, tilting his head to the dance floor. She nodded and stood. "Sorry guys, but duty calls." 

Taking Spike's hand, the two lovers lost themselves in the sea of dancers. "That was cruel of you, kitten," he said, holding her close. "I liked it." 

"You would," she said with a smile. "What say we get out of here?" 

"I thought you'd never ask." 

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

Spike caught Buffy's waist and pulled her back against them as soon as they entered his home. Her heart was beating against the palm of his hand, pulsing with joy and life. Her body was supple and relaxed against him, her hands atop his arm, her hair tickling his chin. Her warmth flowed over him from chest to thigh, seeping into his cold skin. She smelled of youth and laughter and vanilla. He wanted to draw her in like fresh air, drink her down like rich blood. 

He dipped his head and planted a gentle lingering kiss on the back of her neck. Her breath caught and she sank back against him, melting in his caress. She lifted her hand to stroke his face. Without seeming to move at all, as naturally as waking in the evening and sleeping during the day, his hand slid upward and over her breast, filling his palm with softness and warmth and utter femininity. 

He felt her breath, low and deep and long, rush through her lungs. He tasted the skin of her neck on his tongue. Her fingers pressed into his scalp, holding him, urging him. He took the lobe of her ear between his teeth, moving his other hand to the gently convexity of her belly, pressing and massaging the flesh though the material of her dress. Her low moan of pleasure went through him like a small earthquake, reverberating through his body, turning his stolen blood to lava. He pulled her more tightly against him, pressing his teeth against the ligament between her neck and shoulder. 

She whispered his name, He felt her trembling, and his own. He heard her blood rushing through her veins, pulsing, fast and loud, her breath like the sigh of the wind. Desire unfurled within him, hardening his loins, strengthening his muscles, filling him with power and need. He wanted her. That was all he knew. It was plain and primitive and simple and right, this wanting , this singular and all-encompassing need. And he could feel her need in return, smell the musk of her, hear it in the rush of her pulse, taste it in the salt of her skin. He was inflamed. 

Deep within Buffy there was a thread of wonder at the power this man had over her, his almost supernatural ability to enthrall. It was a sensation she acknowledged and knew she should fight - the loss of control, the surrender to desire- but instead, she welcomed it. There was a wildness in him that touched something savage in her, a mastery and a ferocity that excited the most primitive responses in her. Through the swirling haze of her desire, she could almost feel him changing as she changed, becoming one with the passion they created between them. His arms beneath her clutching fingers seemed tighter, stronger, leaner. She felt the bite of nails on her skin, sharp teeth, stronger muscles…It was freighting and thrilling and she couldn't have stopped it if she had wanted to. 

What had started as a low and lovely blossom of desire unfurling inside his belly began to stretch and grow, to darken and expand, greedily lapping up reason and restraint. Spike grappled for control, but there was fire in his brain, a tightness of his skin. The softness of her flesh beneath his hands, the scent of her, the heat radiating from her skin. He was on fire. He ached in every joint and muscle, his arousal throbbing against her backside. In a swift move, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed. 

They sank to the pillows together, wrapped around each other. He captured her mouth with his own, delving deep inside, coaxing, demanding. She stroked his hair with a trembling hand, then moved down to grasp at his shirt. It came off swiftly, their lips barely breaking contact. Her fingers traced idle patterns on his cold back, urging him on. He shifted his weight in order to pull her up so he could unzip the dress. It fell to a pool around her waist, baring her uncovered breasts to him. 

He started to kiss down her neck, then drew her nipples into his mouth, suckling them. She moaned out loud as he moved from one to the other, her hands scratching at his back, then again when he broke away to remove the remainder of their clothing. Her breath was quick and hot, her heartbeat thunderous. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, writhing with need, arching her hips. He took her head between his hands, which wound tightly in her hair and she saw the savagery of hunger in his eyes, the intensity of need, the depth of his desire. 

She felt the stabbing thrust of his penetration and she cried out, arching against him as he filled her. She was dizzy with the force of the sensation, light-headed, weightless, aware of nothing except Spike and the intense, mind-numbing pleasure he created inside her body, the incredible thing that was happening inside her soul. 

They moved together in rhythms that were desperately hypnotic, irresistible and instinctive, and as pleasure spiraled, so did the flow of consciousness between them. She was him. He was her. The orgasm that gripped her was at first only a reflection of the rapture that had sized her mind and then the two blended, an explosion of wonder and breathless, bursting pleasure. She cried out as Spike thrust deep inside her, spilling himself; she held tightly and she wouldn't let him go. 

Spike lifted himself, and held her face in his hands. With his eyes he promised her himself, staked his claim on her, told her she was his mate and no others. His hands moved beneath her back and they turned in bed until she was astride him. She tasted the coolness of his skin, buried her face in his chest, raked her nails along his thighs. She felt him grow strong and hard inside her. He closed his hand on the back of her neck, drawing her down to him. He bit down on her shoulder as they thrust together, savagely, fiercely, turning again and again, discovering and rediscovering the ecstasy. 

When at least they collapsed, tangled together in exhaustion, they lay for a long time bathed in the glow of love. There were marks on Buffy's shoulder and neck and breasts from his mouth. His back bore the red lines of her nails. She ached all over. She could still feel the electric residue of him on her skin, inside her. If her life ended tonight, it would be enough. For this moment, it would be enough. 

Spike pulled her close against him, memorizing the feelings she invoked on him, inside him. If he were to walk into the sun in the morning, it would be with the knowledge that he had known the fire and passion, the unbelievable physical and emotional strength, the love and devotion of one young woman who held the fate of the world on her shoulders. 

"Merry Christmas, Spike," Buffy said softly, hearing the church bells ring twelve. 

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Buffy." He kissed the top of her head and smiled. "Merry Christmas to you." 

 

End


End file.
